


A Little Less Conversation (A Little More Action Please)

by flowercrownmikey



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blowjobs, Drunk Louis, Happy Break-Up, Just silly boys who fancy each other tbh, M/M, One Direction Forms, Shy Harry, X Factor 2010, bathroom stall, handjobs, harry is cute, larry stylinson - Freeform, the script concert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 21:05:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15980492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowercrownmikey/pseuds/flowercrownmikey
Summary: So it wasn't exactly ethical. But Louis dares anyone; man, woman, seventeen year old straight boy with a girlfriend, to look at that curly haired, giggly, ball of sunshine and say no when he's kissing you into a free stall and looking up at you from on his knees with big green eyes.Or/ 17 year old Louis meets 15 year old Harry at The Scripts concert, is slightly off-his-face and ends up cheating on his girlfriend even though he claims he's straight. It doesn't matter though, because he's never going to meet Harry Styles again, which is why its perfectly fine that Hannah is still by his side when he applies for X Factor in 2010.





	A Little Less Conversation (A Little More Action Please)

**Author's Note:**

> Tagged underage because in the UK the age of consent is 16, and when sexual content happens, Harry is 15, and Louis is 17 - if that makes you uncomfortable, I apologise x 
> 
> ENJOY THO! I haven't written Larry in so long, i love them - flowercrownmikey :-)

He's fine. It's fine. Everything is perfectly-

"Mate, I don't think you're too good right now." Stan laughs at him, and no, no he's fine. He tries to tell Stan that fact, but instead ends up burping, and proceeds to spend the next five minutes laughing at himself because of it. Louis can still hear The Script playing, the bass buzzing along the walls of the small bathroom that Louis had stumbled into on a whim just to get away from the heat of the boisterous crowd. He's probably lucky Stan followed him in, if he's honest; he'll never admit that aloud of course, it might hurt his ego. He and his best mate barely even like The Script, but the tickets were cheap and they both love a good concert, so fuck it, they'd both decided months previously; lets go there, get pissed off our asses and try to get laid. That was before Hannah confessed her feelings to Louis though, and he sort of just ended up dating her, somehow. He was drunk then too, the whole night was a blur, and then he woke up and Hannah was naked lying next to him, (he'd never put on clothes faster) and Stan had to tell Louis what he'd gotten himself into and well fuck, he couldn't just tell her he was plastered, could he? 

All in all, Louis doesn't make the best choices when he's had a drink. 

"I'm fine," He drawls to Stan, propping one of his feet up onto the urinal and stretching out his arms. Stan puts a hand over his mouth and takes a step back, but Louis can see the crinkles in his cheeks so he knows the hand is to cover a smile. "See! Look, I'm fi- falling! Shit, I'm f-" 

He ends up banging his head against the floor when he goes down, but it sobers him up a little. Stan doesn't rush to his side or anything because Louis does stupid shit all the time, and it's expected honestly, instead he just sighs and gently kicks Louis' foot away from himself. "I'll go and find you some water or something. Stay here." 

"Yes sir!" Louis salutes, putting his head back on the floor and staring at the yellow ceiling lights. He wonders if it makes his skin yellow. He'd probably look great with yellow skin, he reckons. He hears Stan sigh again before the music gets loud for a couple of seconds and then gets covered again. He's drunk enough that he can stay there, lying on the floor, just staring up at the ceiling and listen to the faint music coming from outside of the door. 

It's fate when somebody walks in, because Louis was in the middle of wondering why there weren't any people using the bathroom at a concert this big. He's a hypnotist then; his career is sorted. Fuck the rest of sixth form. 

"'M sure sixth form isn't that bad." A deep voice says. It's gravelly but Louis can hear the laughter in his tone. He whips his head over to the door, and wow, okay. He's young, probably too young for Louis to be ogling like he is, but he's got long legs and short curly hair styled into some sort of side fringe. He's smiling at Louis like he's the only thing in the room (then again, Louis is lying on the floor in a public bathroom) and- he has a dimple. 

"You have a dimple." Louis says, forgetting entirely what the young boy just said to him. He lists his head higher from the floor. His hair is starting to get suspiciously sticky. Fuck public bathrooms. 

"I do." The boy says in the same deep voice, his smile widening. 

"And curly hair." 

"I have that too, yes." 

"It's nice." Louis says. The boy couldn't be smiling any wider then, both dimples on his cheeks deep like craters and his eyes going all squint-y. He's cute, is the thing. Really cute. Nice little body. 

Louis is a terrible person when drunk, fuck. 

He walks a few paces forward towards Louis' body, still smiling. (How are his teeth so white? What product does he use to keep his hair like that? Does he actually _own_  those shoes or are they his dads? The possibilities are endless.) Louis must blink really slowly or something, because before he knows it there's a mess of dimples and brown curly hair hovering over his fair, smile vanished, and the boy is worriedly looking at him and putting the back of his hand and Louis' forehead. He keens into the hand. Fuck, he's so fucking drunk. 

"S'your name?" Louis asks quietly. Maybe it's quiet. His brain to mouth filter is broken. "'M Louis. Stan is... Stan is somewhere." 

The boy smiles again, getting down onto his knees ( _jesus fucking christ_ ) and kneeling beside him. "It's Harry. Styles. Harry Styles. Hello, Louis." Harry Styles is blushing. 

"And how old might Harry Styles be?" Louis asks. Sue him. Hang him. Whatever. He's drunk. He's a bad person and he's drunk and this Harry kid looks nice on his knees. Jesus Christ he's not even _gay._

"Um." Harry says and pauses. "You know." 

"I don't. It's why I asked." 

"Fifteen. M' fifteen. Sixteen in February." 

He is a terrible, terrible fucking disgrace of a human being. 

"You're drunk, Louis." Pretty boy tells him with a smile, putting a hand out to him and letting Louis cautiously grab it. Pretty boy is suspiciously strong, pulls him up in one go so they stumble back a little, Louis giggling and laughing, throwing himself at the curly haired boy as they stumble, wrapping his slender arms around his neck. He looks up at the Harry character, smiling wide and biting his lip, tilting his head to the side. 

"You're pretty." Louis whispers without thought. Harry smiles bigger and lets Louis tighten his arms and pull them further together. 

"You think?" Asks pretty boy, white teeth shining under the yellow lights. He seems to be teasing, and Louis can't have that now, can he? He pouts and leans further up, looking pretty boy right in the eye. 

He knows that he's leans it too far, whether its on purpose or accident he pushes to the back of his mind, but he breathes over Harry's mouth, pressing forward that little bit more to press their lips against each other, pushing until Harry pushes back, and then they're kissing. 

They're kissing, kissing, kissing, moving from the main bit of the bathroom and tumbling into a stall, Louis' hand wrapped up in pretty boys curls, fist tight, mouth hard and eager, leading. 

They've barely done anything, certainly nothing compared to what he's done with Hannah, but already he can feel his pants tightening, his hips moving without his permission, head fogging with the tingly arousing feeling that's never usually this prominent. It's got to be the alcohol, he thinks fleetingly, getting distracted as the lips leave his.

He opens his eyes, wonders if he's imagined the whole fucking thing because there's nobody in the stall with him at first glance- and he's going fucking insane, surely, but then somebody is undoing his pants, and he looks down to see pretty boy on his knee's in front of him, biting his lip and staring up at him with hooded eyes. 

"I'm a terrible person." Louis moans, letting his head flop back. This boy is fifteen, and he has a girlfriend. Fuck, this should be illegal. Maybe it is, he didn't take law for GCSE; he was always terrible at it. 

Harry giggles and Louis thinks the sound is nice, if not out of place. His jeans are pulled down. "Hey pretty boy?" Louis says before he can stop himself, glancing down. Harry blushes and looks up, smiling and still biting his lip. "You wanna take off your shirt for me?" He whispers the words, because fuck, if he says them any louder it'll be true; he's asking a fifteen year old boy to get top half naked. Fuck. Fuck. The alcohol he's consumed isn't fogging nearly enough of his morals right now. 

Harry doesn't hesitate, just blushes some more before pulling The Scripts band shirt over his head and handing it up to Louis. Louis shoves it on the hook on the door, his fingers fumbling as he stares at endless white torso, a little bit of baby fat clinging to his belly, his nipples dark and complimenting the blemishes on his skin beautifully. He briefly wonders if this makes him a sex offender, and quickly, quickly, so fucking _quickly_  pushes that thought straight out of his head and down the toilet next to them- because they're in a god damn _bathroom_  stall. 

Where did all his morals  _go?_

"I don't usually..." Pretty boy clarifies before scratching up his thighs, pulling at the waist band of his boxers and curling a hand around the outline of his dick over them.

He doesn't usually  _what?_  Give blowjobs? Pick up older strangers in bathrooms?  _What?_

Louis takes a deep breath and presses his head back against the wall. He is terrible and has absolutely no morals. He looks down just in time to see Harry pull his boxers down, and his dick pop up like a fucking mockery, telling him he shouldn't do this; that this is not what he came to this concert to do. But here he is. 

They lock eyes for a second, Harry's green ones twinkling, either nervously or sexily and Louis probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference drunk even if he wanted to. But then Harry keeps looking at him as he leans forward, puts his tongue out and flicks it against the base of Louis' shaft, licking a line up in one go before guiding it into his mouth with his big hand- Jesus Christ this boy is too big to be fifteen, is what Louis is thinking. He could overpower Louis easily, and yet here he is, on his knees in a dirty bathroom. Louis' head is spinning. 

It quickly becomes apparent that when he said he usually doesn't do this, he meant blowjobs. But what pretty boy lacks in skill, he more than makes up for in how eager he is to just suck Louis off, getting saliva anywhere and everywhere, choking himself down so tears pool in the corners of his eyes, making them shiny, jerking him whenever he pulls off to breathe, and Louis can't fucking shut  _up_. 

He's pretty sure at least one guy who's come into the bathroom has figured out what's happening in one of the stalls, because with the sounds he keeps making, unable to stop himself with how drunk he is, at least one of them had to have worked it out. Especially with the slick sounds of Harry's throat constricting, his mouth dragging, the slurping Louis can't help but let go straight to his head- his dick, both most likely. 

He grabs Harry's curls again at one point, threading his fingers through them, looking down at the red stretched lips around him, the unbelievable hollow of his cheekbones leading up to them like runways. His hips press forward and pretty boy just takes it, chokes and tries to take him down further, lets Louis guide him by his hair (something Hannah never does, but he shouldn't fucking  _compare_ god dammit) and puts his hands on Louis' ass to help him. God, he almost fucking loves this boy and all he knows is that he's sixteen in February, is called Harry and has a really cute bloody dimple. Fuck. 

"M gunna, Harry- fuck-" He pulls at his hair, presses forward on instinct like he's fucking someone, and feels the coil in his stomach release as he squeezes his eyes closed and moans, the warm, wet feeling enclosed around his dick not leaving, swallowing him down and jerking him a bit more before he pulls back and lets out a deep breath. 

Pretty boy stands up and wipes his swollen red mouth, still blushing but wrapping his arms around his shirtless torso and biting his lip again. If he didn't have swollen lips Louis could've honestly imagined the whole thing. He looks down and pushes himself from the wall and back up against Harry, not even bothering to pull up his pants as he collapses back into the boy and starts kissing his neck, shoving a hand down the front of his loose jeans, under his boxers and getting a hold of him. 

"Big there, too?" Louis whispers against his neck. "Unfair." Pretty boy lets out a breathless laugh that turns into a pitchy whine when Louis strokes his hand along Harry's (a dick that isn't his own, fuck) dick. This really is a night of firsts for the both of them then. He's quite happy to curl down to kiss at his chest, his nipples, bite at them when it makes Harry even louder, clawing at him. He's also quite happy when pretty boy doesn't last all that long, because he really is spent, and feels more sluggish than drunk after coming down someones throat, unsurprisingly. 

When he's got come over his hand he kisses back up Harry's chest and lets the boy guide their mouths together again, breathing heavy against each other as come down, still pressed together with Louis' hand down his pants. He pulls it out, feels the come smear and squeezes his fingers round into a fist before bringing to hand up between them, Harry licking a stripe up his finger. Louis stares at him before bringing his palm to his mouth and sucking the come from it, leaning forward with it still in his mouth and kissing pretty boy again. 

"Disgusting." Pretty boy rasps out, biting at his lip. It's hot and sticky and Louis feels like his entire fucking body is covered in come, and obviously this is the perfect time for the bathroom door to slam open, Stan yelling his name louder than Louis have ever heard it. 

"Lou! Louis! There was a fucking queue, you better still fucking be in here!"

Louis pushes back from Harry with a sigh, "Fuck off!" He yells back. Harry's smile is stupidly wide, biting his lip. Louis is split between wanting to make him laugh again and wanting him to stay quiet for the sake of keeping whatever just happened- moment of realization because what the fuck did just happen- in this bathroom stall. 

"I have water, you prick." Stan says, just on the other side of the door now. Louis shrugs at Harry, subtly leaning forward to squeeze at his thigh and kiss the side of his mouth with a wink (he may still be a little drunk) before quickly opening the door so its ajar and sliding out, pulling Stan away from it. He wipes his hand on his stomach underneath his T-shirt, takes the water from Stan, and lets his best friend lead him away from the bathroom. 

What the fuck really did just happen?

*

He's sat Hannah, Stan and several other people he doesn't know. And he's now in a band with four of them. Someone. Because he did X Factor this year and Simon Cowell actually thinks they have potential.

Most of the time he sits with Stan and just wonders if this is a dream or not. 

Also he lied. 

Because a year ago he let a fifteen year old blow him in the bathroom while he stil had a girlfriend back home, and now his past won't let him catch a fucking break, because dimples is here and so is Louis' long term fucking girlfriend, and Louis is living a bloody nightmare. 

"We should play a game to get to know each other." The leader of the group, Ryan or something, suggests. This is his second time trying for X Factor so obviously he's completely experience in the whole thing, a real favourite with Simon that one. Louis hates him. 

This band so far consists on an Irish blond kid, someone who keeps calling him 'mate' and listens to shitty R&B music, an attractive kid he used to cheat on his girlfriend with and a know-it-all that he hates. He can totally see this working out. Congrats Simon Cowell. 

"How about we just go round the circle," Because that's what they're fucking sat in, like children, "And tell each other our names and something about us?" Someone suggests, a friend of loud, blond and irish. 

"Sure," Know-it-all smiles. "I'm Liam, and... I have this weird phobia of spoons?" 

"Spoons?" R&B snorts. 

"Shut up, right, next." His friend Toni introduces herself, and they go round. 

Sooner rather than later it's Stan's turn, and of course, it true best friend form, he gets right into it. "I'm Stan, Lou's best friend," He gestures because nobody has any fucking idea who Lou is at this point. He's not said a word. "I like drinking in parks at night, and I'm only here because Louis is an asshole who has trouble not coming across as an asshole." 

"Good first impression, thanks." Louis mumbles sarcastically. "I'm Louis," He easily avoids curly's eyes, "I'm not an alcoholic like Stan, and I like... making bad life decisions." 

"Cheers to that." Someone who came with R&B says, nodding in agreement. 

"I'm Louis' girlfriend, and I like-" Louis rolls his eyes. 

"Your name, love." He reminds quietly, cutting her off. It's like this woman doesn't know what feminism means, and definitely doesn't apply it. Louis loves her, he really does. As a friend. Which. Well, it's a bit late for that, honestly. 

"Sorry," She smiles at the group. "I'm Hannah, and I like, uh, late night trips to McDonalds and sleeping in." 

"How long have you guys been together?" Louis snaps over to dimples at that question, but before he can begin to fathom how he could intervene, Hannah is already answering. 

"Coming up to eighteen months now." Louis almost see's Harry break at the information and instantly feels terrible. Jesus. He needs to fix this before this entire band goes sour before its even started. 

"Really?" Harry asks in shock. Hannah nods and smiles. Louis is frozen. "You think he'll stay with you if the band wins X Factor?" 

"What?" Hannah asks quietly, good mood dropping slightly. She looks moderately offended, Louis isn't sure why - they both know it's over, really. Has been for a long time. 

"Dude..." R&B says in surprise. Louis resists rolling his eyes. 

Louis crosses his legs and stands up. "Alright, dimples and I are going to have a chat outside." 

"Dimples?" Stan snorts. "First nickname that springs to mind?" 

He kicks Stan in the thigh and leads Harry towards the door, opening it for him before closing it behind the two of them. He leans against the wall next to it, sighing. 

"I'm really not as bad as this looks, okay?" 

"How-" Dimples - Harry, fuck - frowns. "Eighteen months? Does she know-?" 

"Obviously not, Harry," he replies, "It's complicated, yeah?" 

"How is cheating on your girlfriend with a boy you think you'll never see again  _complicated_?" He whisper yells. Louis can't really argue with that one, but he'll try. 

"Because I'd never done anything with a boy before you!" 

Harry blinks at him. 

"And I - I'm a fucking awful person for this, but Hannah and I hadn't been dating long, and I didn't even fancy her, just slept with her when I was hammered and felt too bad to tell her." 

He looks personally offended, "And you let that go on for eighteen months?! How long do you plan on keeping it up?!" 

"I do not need a life lesson from a sixteen year old; I'm a big boy, Harry." 

"You weren't that big, actually." 

Louis' eyes widen, "Are you insulting my dick? Is that what we're doing now?" Harry's lips turn upwards, and he looks away from Louis, crossing his arms. "Oh, you're bratty."

"I am  _not_ bratty!" 

Louis smiles, "You're acting like a brat, kiddo." 

"You can't call someone kiddo after they've sucked you off in a bathroom stall, Louis. Playing the age card just reflects on your morals." 

"I was pissed, where were your morals?" Louis nudges him, almost smiling now. 

"You kissed me!"

Louis looks to the door next to them. They're getting louder now, hopefully the group are still doing that awful 'get to know you' exercise, but he still knows they should probably move slightly away from the room. 

There's a closed door opposite this one, and he gently checks to see if it's open before peering his head inside. It's an empty room just like the one they came from, and Louis gestures for Harry to walk in. 

Harry rolls his eyes, turns away from him. 

"Oi, brat, don't want them to hear us, do you?" 

"Stop calling me a brat," Harry whines as he pushes past Louis and walks into the room, "Cheater." 

Louis closes the door and glares at him, crossing his own arms. 

Harry mimics him childishly. Louis tries not to smile, and looks at the ceiling. 

"I'm sorry, alright?" 

"To who, me or you girlfriend?" 

"To you." 

Harry's eyes blow wide, "Do you not care about her at all?" 

"Hazza, love," Louis sighs, "One problem at a time, please. Hannah knows damn well I don't like her like that, and I know for a fact she sleeps with her neighbour, because God knows I haven't slept with her for a long time. At this point I think we're just trying to salvage any bit of friendship we have left by not breaking up with each other." 

"Oh." 

"Oh?" Louis asks, "So suddenly I'm not the devil incarnate?" 

"Still shouldn't have done it," he mumbles. 

"You shouldn't have seduced me with your curls, then, should you?" 

"With -  _you_ kissed me!"

"You didn't exactly fight me off, did you, love? Blushing constantly, getting on your knees without having to be asked," Harry is wide eyed, "What? you think I forgot?" 

"You're insufferable." He's trying not to smile, keeping his arms crossed. Not meeting Louis' eyes. 

"You were pretty taken with me back then." 

"I was not." 

"Bet you told your mates at school about me," To his surprise, Harry actually begins to blush, "Oh my, you actually did. That's cute." He says nothing, "Harry? We're in a band together, love, you're going to have to forgive me, here. I've explained it the best I can. I'm not a terrible person, I promise." 

"Break up with her," he says instantly. 

"Like... now?" 

"Yeah," he nods, like it's a brilliant idea he's thought of, "Yes, please. Right now." 

"Harry... we're about three hours away from Doncaster. It'd be fucking awkward for all parties involved." He rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. "You want me all to yourself already, that it?" 

"Cheater." 

"Brat." 

"Louis," he whines, "Break up with her."

"I dunno, Hazza," he teases, "I think you might have some sort of motive here that I'm not aware of." 

He sighs, "I can't believe the entire time I - and you had a girlfriend. God, Louis," he frowns, "This isn't who I am, either, you know. I don't want to think about you the way I do while you're with someone." 

Louis frowns at that, too, stepping closer to him before finally pulling his hands away from his eyes, "In what way are you thinking of me, exactly?" 

"Lou..." 

Louis smiles at him, softly. He puts a hand through his curls - they've gotten a little long now, but still soft, still the same he'd remembered them. Harry is doe-eyed, and without thinking, Louis stands on his tip-toe's (he'd never admit that, but the sixteen year old has gotten taller since they'd seen each other) and leans up, breathing over his lips, just like he had in that dirty bathroom at The Script concert. 

Harry actually kisses him this time, squeezes his eyes and grabs his waist as he connects them, pulling Louis into him so he can lean back into the wall. It's more a string of solid kisses, rather than the sloppy one a year and a bit ago, and just as Louis is bites Harry's bottom lip, he breathes heavy, and whispers, "Please break up with her." 

Louis nods, presses their foreheads together, and then rips away from him, striding towards the door. 

"Lou?" 

"I'll break up with her. Right now. Wait here." 

He closes the door behind himself, and doesn't even bother hiding that he's flustered as he barges into the other room, taking the whole group by surprise, "Hi," he states. Stan is wide eyed - so is everyone else. Louis should probably read into that, "Hannah? Chat, please?" 

She points at herself, and then nods, standing up and following him out of the room again. 

She takes it very well, honestly. Better than Louis thought he would've if she'd broken up with him. They even hug afterwards, and she walks back into the room like nothing has changed. He knew they didn't really like each other like that, but he almost wishes he would've had the balls to do it sooner if it would've gone that easily. 

He blinks himself out of it, and walks back into the other room. 

Harry stares at him, "I - uh - I heard?" 

"What?" 

"I heard everything you said. From this room. With the door closed." 

Louis licks his lips, "So," He points to the door, gesturing where the other room would be, "They heard? Us?" 

"I mean... probably." 

"Oh. I'm surprised she took it so well then," he says, and that's that. Harry laughs, "It's not funny! Now she knows- oh my God, everyone we're in a band with knows you sucked me off in a bathroom stall. Harry!" He's still laughing. Louis huffs and walks over, hitting his shoulder, before pulling him in again, swallowing the laughter in a scorching kiss. 

He hopes the band thing works out for them, really. 

Prays it does, even. 


End file.
